Fallen Grace
by nosenseorgravity
Summary: For the longest time, she lived on Earth, living in a comfortable flat with a human name that had long replaced her real one. It remained that way until trouble strikes Powell Estate and she meets the Doctor for the first time in many years. Would she take this chance travel the stars with an old friend she long thought abandoned her?
1. Once Upon A Time

_A/N: Hey guys! This is my first Doctor Who fanfiction. I am a big fan of the show for many years and I've always wanted to write this little fic. And I only got the courage to do it now. This fic is actually an experimental piece. I've seen stories about Original Characters being humans, humans-turned-Time lords, actual Time Lords, but I never seen a fic about an OC that's from a different species involved in a the Whoniverse. The Whoniverse is vast and full of different possibilities in its uncharted waters. And that's what I'm doing with this fic._

 _Hopefully, you, dear readers, would like what I came up with and enjoy reading it._

 _English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance if there are grammatical errors or missing words (I tend to do that)._

 _And last and not the least..._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who._

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Chapter One

Once Upon A Time

Stars wheeled overhead, swirling around the dark void around her. A sweet sense of peace overcame, making her feel safe and sound. It was beautiful beyond compare. She stood in the edge of the night, watching as the bright life of forever filled the air. Yet there was something wrong—something she could not explain.

And then it came.

She felt it in the water. She felt it in the earth. She smelt it in the air. Much that once was is lost. And none now live for those who remember it. Her grandmother showed it to her once, the darkness—silent and void, but even then it was just a memory—a dream that could never be. However, dreams that are thought to be impossible can be turned into reality. It lingered in the shadows like a preying beast, watching and waiting. Darkness crept back into the forest. Rumour grew of a shadow of a race long since forgotten; whispers of a nameless fear. Too long had the shadows plagued her, too long had it haunted her steps. But for the first time since it watched, it finally revealed itself.

Something must have changed.

She ran through the forest as fast as her feet could take her. Her senses tingled in an electrified response. An unnerving silence was in the air. No cricket or owl to be heard. The pathway led her running through twists and turns. Her barefoot steps moved on the earthy floor of the forest, not making a single sound. Soon she was greeted by a familiar sight.

It was home.

She walked unto the cobblestone pathway as it led to the front porch. Flowers surrounded her wake with the colours of blue and lavender, twisted into an arch. The trees were trimmed into a pleasant sight. The moonlight had shone on her house, making it looked more ghostly than it should. It might have looked like an abandoned house with its beautiful ruined state. Moss and vines had clung to the walls, making it look ancient. It was too large for a residence of one. The walls were glazed in white with tall pillars, framing its structure. The lights were out, filled with unbidden darkness. Although, it wouldn't be as such if there was anyone to keep the fire alive.

Even in a troubling hour such as this, she contemplated how isolated she had become. She was lonely then and lonelier now. No comfort or presence was to grace her.

The woman opened the door into the dark entrance of her home. From the dim light of the moon, the stairs had made an illusion of being bigger than it was. The room was well-furnished with the sitting room at the left, and a dark hallway at her right. The stairs winded up above with its burgundy carpet, leading you to a series of hallways and doors to which there was no knowing where you'd end up. It was only then that it occurred to her how she let herself go so far. The walls were already chipped and decorated green and brown with vines. It tainted the light beige colour of the walls. It was morbid how beautiful it seemed to her; it reflected how she was these days.

There was a cold feeling inside the house; some windows were forced open by the strong wind that had begun to stir some time ago. It scattered papers around the area and the moonlight had given it an eerie ambient. There was a rustle of leaves behind her. Autumn leaves drifted past.

She felt it.

The darkness was closer now. Someone was here, watching, but from where?

She peered beyond the dark stretch of her house. Taking a step forward, she left the door open, letting the light come in. The moonlight was behind her as the only source of light. She moved unto the centre, letting her steely auburn eyes search the places were ordinary eyes cannot. She stood still, feeling the hairs of the back of her neck stand. And all so suddenly, the door slammed shut behind her, leaving her in the darkness.

A faint light emerged and lit the room. The light came from no lamp or torch, but the woman herself. She glowed faintly with a ghostly aura as she remained still, and her eyes continue to scan her surroundings for any sign of life.

"Impressive."

The woman turned around slowly to meet the source of the new voice. It was masculine and deep, but was distorted and robotic. She did not see the intruder quite clearly. It was only his silhouette. Despite his foreboding aura, the woman was adamant not to let this _intruder_ see weakness inside her. He radiated power that she had been able to feel for a long time. She did not heed any mind to his words, but had observed him. His posture was steady and straight, towering over her. There was a bit of discomfort in his movements like something was resisting in his mind. Confusion was there, seeping out from his façade of indifference.

"So it is true." He said. "I had never seen people like you."

The man stepped towards her, but she stood her ground. The man oozed darkness and deadly intentions yet he was not there to kill her that much she can decipher.

"There is no one like me..." she said calmly as she walked to her coat rack.

She walked as if he was a normal guest not a possible psychopathic murderer. The woman did not find it in herself to run away from a dangerous opponent. She had worse, felt worse, and done worse than the man who dared trespass. The woman took her cowl off, hanging it on the rack, her ebony black hair spilling out into the open.

"You're right. There is no one like you…anymore."

The woman stopped in movements, frozen, as he said those words. It was a low blow yet it had stung her so. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before she continued to fiddle with her coats, acting to be unfazed by the comment. It never helped being angry in a situation like this; it would have been an advantage on his side, more vulnerable for him to exploit her.

"I heard stories, legends, about your people, but I never thought it to be true." He said, walking towards her. "I can feel it; your loneliness and your grief."

She turned around and snapped, "Leave me alone, snake!"

"Oh, but you are alone!" he said mockingly. "Who knows what you have spoken to the darkness? In bitter watches of the night, when all your life seems to shrink, and the void swallows you whole."

The woman looked away from him, feeling the dread fill up inside her. Closing her eyes, she tried not to think, but there were images that came forth in her mind. She staggered back, her light flickering as she began to lose control.

The shadowed man watched her movements as his words sway her emotions. The constant grief that she carries had been buried all her life, hidden in her unbinding solitude in the forests of the peaceful realm of Earth. Growing, festering, and caged in the core of her emotions.

The woman tried to block out his voice along with the images to no avail.

" _ **After all these years, it had never left.**_ _"_

 _She sat in a silver field with golden flowers. She made flower crowns as children danced before her, running through the glen. A smile graced her features and a man in green sat beside her, holding her close and pressing his lips on her temple._

" _ **All that grief spent in the solitude of your aching heart**_."

 _The scene shifted and she was in a warzone in her home world. Everything was on fire. A bright red and ashen black where silver and gold used to be. And bodies strewn around her._

" _Mama!" she turned to see her daughter run_ _towards her. Sudden relief came, but it faded when a familiar voice came forth._

" _NO!" She screamed and a beam of light shot out. And her daughter fell on the floor dead._

" _ **Do you ever get tired? Waking up every morning and feeling the emptiness of your heart.**_ "

 _She screamed, running towards her child. Before she could go further, someone grabbed her waist, dragging her back._

" _Yvaine, let go!" She struggled against his grip, grief-stricken by her child's death. The next thing she knew she was in a transpod, her husband face looming outside. Tears streamed down his face as she screamed to let her go. They rushed through corridors, the once silver walls coated with blue blood. Without her knowing, her husband pushed her into a pod and locked it._

" _Loke, please! Don't do this."_

" _I'm sorry, my love." He said, working on the controls._

" _Come with me!" She pleaded._

" _It can only transport one person. And I'll be damned if I lose the woman I love." He said; his voice full of determination._

 _Loke took one last look at his wife. Her black hair was a mess and her nose was red from all her crying. Even now, he found her so beautiful. He lifted a hand, pressing it on the glass. Yvaine returned the gesture. They both knew that this would be the last time they were together. It was the last time they would see each other again. Loke was hesitant to press the button, not willing to let her go. However, if he didn't, she'd die. And he could not have that._

" _Goodbye, my love."_

 _He pressed the button and she was gone in a flash of light._

" _ **There is no comfort for you. No comfort to ease the pain of what you had lost.**_ _"_

 _The light began to fade and still she stood, tears running down her face. They were gone. Astra, her daughter, was dead. Loke left himself behind in Othorion. He sacrificed himself for her safety. There was emptiness in her heart. It was then she knew there was no one else left of her kind._

 _She was alone._

" _ **You lingered on in darkness and in doubt. As nightfall in winter that comes without a star. Here is where you dwell, bound to your grief, under the fading trees, until the entire universe is changed and the long years of your life are utterly spent. There is nothing for you here, only death. And the memory of your people shall be diminished and lost."**_

The images faded. She gasped. A tear escaped her eyes and cascaded down her cheek. The weariness began to take hold of her. How long had she tried to escape the truth? There was no bringing them back, she was alone and that was what fate decided.

"I can take it away. The pain you feel. I can replace it with something even better. Join me." He said softly, his gaze on to hers.

That was when she looked up at him again with tearful eyes.

"Join me. Rebuild the glory of your planet and it shall be remembered for centuries." He said, commending her in a tone of gentleness.

She looked at him almost considering of the offer. She could not deny in her heart that she had long desired this, but through her they will bring destruction and chaos in the galaxy. There was one thing she knew about men like him, one thing that is true. They lie.

"Your words are poison!"

A bright light filled the air.

She gasped awake. Breathing in deeply, she looked around to see she was in the tube. She must have fallen asleep. Groaning, she moved her muscles, feeling her strained limbs pop. The train stopped and the people were filing out the train. After a moment, Yves followed.

It had been many years since she arrived on Earth. She had teleported in London on the year 1895. Yves lived through WWI, where she became a civilian nurse. She fought in WWII, leading a troop through Nazi lines. Never did she think that she'd get caught up in human affairs. And after many years since then, life as a human seemed much more mundane than usual, but not mundane enough to leave her bored.

Along the street, Yvaine—or rather Yves as she now called herself—walked idly by and up the stairs to her flat. It was a normal day in London…well, not so much normal. It was going to be her (supposed) birthday tomorrow. And so, as always, she wouldn't celebrate it. She never did. The last time she did was in 1945 at the end of the war. Even so, she didn't have any real family left to spend it with. How could she? They were all dead. She couldn't even visit their graves. There was always the option of friends, but she was never really social. Her reserved nature was for all but for those she placed her trust in. Even then, she wouldn't celebrate it. It was just too painful to remember. Even if centuries more had gone by, the wound would still be too fresh.

For so long, she carried a burden in her heart that weighed her down, but entering this world, even after so much death and wars she saw, had been a remedy in progress.

Yves sighed, unlocking the door to her flat. The place was a fair deal. It was quite cramped compared to the vast space of her home back in her world or in Delphi. It didn't have the wide open windows that showed the vast forest nor did it have the view of the vast coast. Yet she did not complain, only sought to make it as comfortable as possible. Her home was mostly the color of white, green, brown, and blue. Despite appearances on the outside, there were many of her human friends that remarked about the state of her home. It was always clean and spotless. It was simple and elegant with a dash of antique and natural spirit.

Acting like a human has its upsides and downsides, but it was interesting to live by. However, life goes on in a dismal array where Yves tried to live low key. It's the reason why she moved into an flat in Powell Estate when she could easily buy a high-class flat in London. Of course, while she lived in such middle-class accommodations, she sought to make her flat suitable to her taste. And those were easily acquired by the features she brought from her home in Greece.

Her mind wandered to her dream. It was one that she had no intention of repeating. She couldn't help but feel dread after remembering it. It was reason why she left Greece in the first place. Someone had managed to track her down and used her grief and loneliness to manipulate her into joining his forces. Until now, she didn't know who he was, but he was like every other bad man she met. One obsessed with absolute power to bend the universe to his will. Hopefully, Yves would not encounter him any time soon—or ever.

She threw her bag on the blue velvet sofa and headed straight for the kitchen. Putting on the kettle, she waited for the water to boil just so she can have a cup of tea. She never would have thought her life would end up like this—drinking tea, living that total human lifestyle. No more daily rituals. No more hunting. No more climbing trees or large expanse of stairs. Sometimes the elemental living her people used to have grated on her nerves. Yes, they did have advanced technology, but it didn't remove their most ancient traditions being integrated on their lives. She was glad that there were elevators on Earth, making it easier to climb up unlike her home which had great spiral staircases twisted around the trunk of their large trees as high as skyscrapers. However, she couldn't help but feel bad about disagreeing with some things in their culture especially now that's left to her. She knew that she should have done something to restore and preserve it as the last of her kind, but she didn't want to. As selfish as it was, she didn't want to live her life trying to rebuild something that could never be recovered. She could still practice and teach her culture, but she can never rebuild it to its former glory.

And since landing on Earth, it began a whole new life for her. Earth was home. And home it will remain to be.

There was a knock on the door and Rose's voice resounded from beyond the door.

"Yves, are you there?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." She said loudly, hoping it was loud enough to be heard.

However, the knocking didn't stop and Yves could only roll her eyes as she took the kettle off. She, then, took off to the front door, opening it to see an angry Rose Tyler right in front of her doorstep. Rose stomped inside, brushing past Yves, who stepped aside to let her in.

"Nice to see you too." Yves said sarcastically. "What got your knickers in a twist?"

Quite recently, she had learned the basic slang terms and up-to-date idioms humans would use in the 21st Century. And Yves was quite proud of herself in using it correctly. Thankfully, if she got something wrong she could always blame it on being a foreigner (which wasn't really far from the truth).

"It's Danny." Rose growled. "That wanker really couldn't shut up his trap!"

Yves sighed. "Rose, I told you before. Just ignore what he says. Anything he says won't change who you are."

"He wasn't talking about me." Rose stressed.

"Who was it this time?" Yves sat down besides Rose.

"You."

Yves raised a brow. "What did he have to say?"

Rose sighed in frustration and said, "He was talking to a bunch of blokes of how you were some foreign prostitute that was running away from the law."

Yves laughed, cutting Rose off. "Oh, God! I'm sorry." She said in between laughs.

Rose couldn't help but smile at her neighbor, yet it didn't relinquish her incredulous confusion. "How are you not pissed?"

"I'm sorry!" Yves said, regaining her composure. "It's just so hilarious finding what people assume to think in their funny little brains. So much imagination! Remember when he accused me of scuba-diving naked with sharks back in Greece."

Rose laughed at the memory of that day.

"Oh yeah," she said, "you punched him right off his rocker especially when he said you had a Greek mythology fetish."

"Ooh! Maybe I do." Yves said suggestively, wiggling her brows. "I always loved a toga."

Rose laughed along with Yves. They always had a light atmospheric friendship that grown within the year they had known each other. Their friendship had been totally accidental, springing from Rose's mother's gossiping and grocery shopping. At first, Rose disliked Yves and had grown a bit insecure. It was hard not to. Yves had a beauty that left the boys gawking. She was tall and exotic—something unattainable. Fortunately, Rose got past that and concentrated on getting to know the real her.

"And I got so mad at him, but I couldn't do anything because the police were there. I could have gotten arrested or evicted if I ever made a move." Rose said more lighter than before.

Yves contemplated. "Tell you what. When we find Danny, we should give him a nice right hook on the face." Yves said, making Rose smile and laugh. "He's been bullying us for a year with no reason whatsoever other than turning him down. I believe he deserves a nice big bruise on his face. We punched him once, we can punch him again. Except this time, we make sure it leaves a mark for him to remember."

Rose laughed. "Oh, Yves. You always know how to cheer me right up."

Yves laughed with her, releasing her hands to grab her cup. She smiled; a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"It's what we, neighbors, do." Yves said, giving her a bright smile.

"You know...it's been a year…" Rose began. "We're more like friends than actual neighbors."

"Yeah, I guess so." She said, staring out into the blue, thinking. "He got it wrong actually."

"Who?" Rose asked, looking at her curiously.

"Danny." Yves said, "He said I slept with thirteen men when, in truth, I only had slept with two men."

"Really?" Rose asked, surprised.

Yves looked at her in confusion. "Why so surprised?"

"I've never thought you'd be that kind of girl." Rose said truthfully.

When Rose thought about it, she had never seen Yves interested in any person in that way. She was polite and amicable, but never flirty or seductive. Yves may have the looks of a temptress, but her actions and behavior was far more innocent and conservative. When Rose first met her, she took her as this typical flirty and girly girl from next door. However, in time, she saw that Yves was intelligent and reserved, simple and kind, and understanding and patient. So, as she thought this over, it made sense.

Yves stayed quiet for a moment. "Well, I am." She said distractedly.

Rose looked at her worriedly. "Yves, are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just thinking of someone." She said, sending her friend a sheepish smile.

Rose grinned with mischief in her eyes. "Well, come on. Tell me about them."

"Are you sure?" Yves said, turning red in embarrassment while smiling like a fool.

"It's only two." Rose nudged her. "But you have to tell me which one was the best."

"Hard decision." Yves said; contemplative.

"Why?"

"Because both of them were great."

They broke out in laughs. And soon enough, Yves brought out a bottle of champagne and she began her stories about her two lovers. They laughed and drank until Rose went off to get some tea to sober them up. Rose returned with two mugs of tea. Yves had begun to tell her the story of her first love since the death of her husband. Yes, she was finally opened up enough to tell Rose that she was married. And God, the poor girl almost spat out her tea at the revelation.

"But you couldn't be older than twenty-three!" she said in shock.

Yves chuckled before turning serious. "Rose, I'm twenty-five. Just two years older than what you thought my age was." She sighed. "God! I was so young." Yves reminisced.

Rose looked at her curiously. "How old were you?" she asked.

"Oh! About eighteen, I think." Yves said nonchalantly, waving a hand in dismissal.

"That's a year younger than I am!" Rose exclaimed.

"Love has no bounds." Yves sang.

"Let me guess," Rose said, "childhood best friends fell in love and got married when they got the chance."

"Not quite there, but you're close." Yves said thoughtfully. "He was my teacher."

"Oh my god!" Rose was absolutely shocked. "You married your teacher!"

"The age gap wasn't big." Yves defended herself. "He was only three years older than me at the time."—Actually, it's more like three hundred years, but Rose didn't need to know that—"And! He was my private music instructor."

"Okay." Rose said, calming down, but she smirked, "So, you got a thing for older men?"

"It's a curse I have to live with." Yves said jokingly, earning a laugh from Rose.

Rose asked about Loke and how they met. And Yves delighted on telling her the humanized versions of her stories of her life in Othorion with him. She talked about their wedding and how it went. Speaking about the wedding, she even told Rose about the handsome madman that whisked her away a week before said event. The madman with gorgeous curly locks and old-fashioned cravat, who brought her to see places she never thought she would ever see. Of course, Yves told her that she went back to get married. She even told her that the madman had given her a gift of farewell, showing her a necklace.

"How about the second one?" Rose asked eagerly.

Yves smiled sadly and began telling her the tale of her and Nicholas Lane. It was story of them, falling madly in love, trying to build a life that was impossible to make.

"I couldn't give him what he wanted." Yves confessed. "So I left and never turned back. He married another girl and started his family."

Rose couldn't help but feel sad for Yves at that moment. Soon after, Rose had to go since she had work. And Yves was left alone. She cleaned and washed the mugs and glasses they used, fixing her sitting room back to the way it was. Flexing her arms, she released a yawn. It was late already when she finally finished cleaning. And so, she thought it was better if she got ready for bed. However, before she did, the telephone rang. Yves groaned, cursing whoever was calling at this time of night.

All her friends would get old or die, or stay young but still die. Either way, it never ends happily for them. And it always hurts Yves every time they do. And Yves sighed, and her cellphone rang.

"Hello." Yves answered happily, smiling.

However, what happiness she felt soon faded once she listened to the reason why they called.

"I'll be there in a few minutes." She said, hanging up.

Yves shrugged her coat on before walking out the flat, locking it. Quickly, Yves hailed a cab and instructed it to go to Albion Hospital. The drive was long and tense—at least for Yves, and the cabbie sensed this so he began talking to her about his family to distract her. This was something she appreciated and gladly talked with him about various things until she arrived at the hospital. Slipping out the cab and waving goodbye, she entered the hospital with dread in her heart.

Yves didn't have to ask the nurse to know where and which room she needed to go. She came here plenty of times to do that. Soon, she found herself in front of a familiar white door. It was closed like always. Her hands hovered around the doorknob. Indecision flooded her. Should she open it? She knew what lay beyond those doors. She had been here enough to know. Yet she couldn't bring herself to open it. Maybe it's because she knew it was going to be the last she did. Breathing out shakily, she opened the door, slowly pushing it, letting herself in.

In the dimly lit room, she could the outline of a withered old man, lying on a hospital bed. Slowly, she walked towards his side, tears glistening in her eyes. Yves looked at his sleeping face, full of serenity, and forever more he will remain. There were no words to describe how she left; nothing that could comfort her in her growing grief. Starting to tomorrow, he will be gone. It seemed like yesterday he was the dashing, young man she met in 1943. He was part of the special troop she led during WWII. With his glossy brown hair and cerulean eyes, he could have captured the eyes of any women. However, it was his selfless heart and his kindness that stolen her heart.

Touching his wrinkly hand, she caressed his knuckles. She stood and watched as he slept, memorizing ever line on his face. No matter how old he got, he still remained handsome to her. This was the price of her immortality on Earth. She would remain young while those she loved wither of old age and die. Many times she tried to distance herself to save her from pain. She would gain friends—that was inevitable—but she never let herself get too attached and, most especially, fall in love. Yet she knew there would always be that one person that would break her defenses. Nicholas Lane had done just that for the first and possibly the last time.

Her days with Nicholas were ones that she treasured greatly. They fought and bled together in the war, building a life together. He was the only one she ever truly opened up to. He knew of what she was and accepted her, loving her nonetheless. Yet there was a truth that haunted her. While he can spend the rest of his life with her, she could never spend the rest of hers with him. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't.

Yves remembered the day she left him.

From the shadows, she watched him live his life. He had a family, a wife and children. A life he could never have with her. All she could ever give was a lifetime of despair yet he never forgot. That was something she never did understand.

She still remembered the promise he made the last time they met.

Sorrowfully, she whispered in his ear, "Never make promises you can never keep." She pressed her lips on his forehead, closing her eyes.

Yves straightened up, releasing his hand, and turned away. However, she stopped when a hand gripped her wrist. She stiffened, breathing out a gasp. She turned around to see Nicholas looking at her with a dazed expression.

"Yvaine?" he croaked out.

"Yes. It's me." She said desperately, grasping his hand within hers. "Nicholas, I'm here."

"You cannot be her." He muttered, closing his eyes, repeating his phrase.

Yves looked at him in confusion, her eyes softening. He opened his eyes, staring into nothing.

"She walks in starlight in another world…far, far away from me. Silver light cloaked upon her like a robe while the sun was her crown. She is beautiful." He said dreamily, grasping her hand tighter. His face molded in sadness, his voice broken. "…but it was just a dream."

She didn't know what to say. She wanted to tell him she was here. She was real. Yet nothing came, she only stared with tears rolling down her cheeks.

Nicholas looked at her, a hopeful expression on his face.

"Do you think I would ever see her again?" he asked, almost pleadingly.

"You already have." She said; her voice breaking.

Nicholas smiled, wider than he ever had, until his eyes closed and his heart stopped beating. And his hand still held onto hers. Yves was crying, unable to control herself. Her heart was breaking and there was nothing she could do. Everything went in a blur and she found herself outside his room while the doctors and nurses did their work. She covered her mouth, swallowing back a sob.

He was dead.

Another person she ever loved was taken away from her.

There were wails coming from the end of the corridor. She turned to see Nicholas' family. They were mourning. And the only comfort they would get was that he died peacefully. She couldn't stand there for long, she knew that. They would start asking who last visited him. And Yves didn't want them to find her. So, she did what she did best.

She ran away.


	2. Yvaine Part 1

_A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this new chapter. R &R is highly recommended :)_

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Chapter Two

Yvaine Part 1

On the night Nicholas died, Yves drank too much alcohol, trying to drown her sorrows. This, however, didn't work because of her fast metabolism, but it didn't stop her from trying. She managed to get a headache but it was nothing compared to the ordinary human hangovers. Nevertheless, it did distract her long enough until the three days where she lay on her bed, thinking. Should she get up? There was nothing to do. She could talk to Rose, but she was at work. There was Jackie, but she didn't feel like hearing gossip about the next door neighbors or her worried nagging. She knew she had worried the Tylers with her sudden swoop to depression. She didn't leave her flat for three days, keeping to herself, wallowing in grief. However, she knew she had to face real life and carry on.

So, the day before yesterday, Yves got up from bed for the first time in days.

Her recovery was a work in progress, but she was slowly going back to the way she was. Rose and Jackie had been very helpful as well as Mickey for some odd reason. She regained whatever strength she lost, going back to her regular jogging sessions. That's where she came from now. Yves enjoyed a nice shower after returning to her flat from a nice morning jog. After the bath, she clothed herself in her blue bathrobe with her wet hair clinging on her skin. She walked through her walk-in closet. The flat actually didn't have a walk-in closet—in fact it was the guest bedroom which turned into a closet. This was because she figured no one would stay in her flat or be her flatmate.

She roamed around, looking the racks, shelves, and the drawers. She finally settled with a sleeveless burgundy red turtleneck crop top and a black fitted cargo trousers. Wearing a pair of red and black heeled boots, she shrugged on a red and black biker jacket. It remained unzipped, but before she did, she looked at the crystal necklace around her neck, nesting between the top of her breasts. It was the necklace Yves had shown Rose prior to Nicholas's death. Inside the crystal remained the last memory of her people, a flower from the Erudien tree. There were a lot memories came with this necklace. Ones she managed to leave behind her.

Shaking her head, she zipped up her jacket and tied her hair into a high ponytail.

Before she left the flat, she caught the glimpse of her television on, showing the news. It had been on the entire time she was in the bath and wardrobe, but only now did she notice it. On the news they were talking about an explosion that happened yesterday and how they found a body. The place that was burnt down was where Rose had worked in. Yves remembered Jackie yammering about yesterday when she came into the flat to take care of Yves. Not that she needed to be taken care of. She was just in a bad place, that's all. Some solitude and time would fix it.

Leaving the flat, she went over to the Tylers, but before she got there, she saw a man crouching down the cat flap of their flat's door. Raising a brow, she approached the man, her arms crossed. Even with the loud clicks of her heels, he didn't notice her. However, after she cleared her throat, he did. His body stiffened while Yves smirked.

"Can I help you?" she said, watching as the man turned around looking at her in surprise.

The man was rather tall, but it made no difference to Yves being 5'10". He had cropped hairstyle and distinguishable features especially with the pointed nose and large ears. Despite being a total stranger, there was something familiar about the man. Then again, she met many men in her lifetime. However, there was something in his shocked gaze that unnerved Yves. It was like he knew her, but she didn't know him.

"Yvaine?" he said, almost whisper-like as if he was in a dream.

Yves stiffened at the mention of the name. How did it that this stranger had known that name? It had been years since she left it behind. Years since anyone had ever uttered it. There was no one left to utter except… Her eyes hardened, looking at him with suspicion. In a flash of a second, she had him pinned on the wall with her arm on his neck, choking him slightly.

"Who sent you?" she growled with hostility, "How do you know that name?"

There was no fear in his eyes, only sadness and regret. It confused Yves. Why would he feel that way?

"Oh, Yvaine…No one sent me." he uttered calmly, staring her down. "I've known that name for a very long time."

Yves ripped away from him as if he was poison, looking at him with a bewildered expression. There was no one else who could have known it. No one, but myself and… The realization dawned to her as she gazed into his eyes and it all clicked into place.

"Doctor?" she whispered in disbelief.

The Doctor smiled at her before rushing forward and enveloping her in a hug. Yves stood still in shock. The warmth coming from him melted into her being. She hugged back, wrapping her arms around his torso with her head on his shoulder. It had been years, in Yves's respective, since they last saw each other and he had changed. They had become friends with their fondness for Earth and humans, and their aversion for war. However, now, it seemed both had changed since then that both almost couldn't recognize each other. Yves was older and guarded, no longer the naïve and open Yvaine. The Doctor was full of grief and battle-hardened.

Yet it didn't matter. They both lost their worlds to the Time War; both the last of their race.

"Oh, you bastard." She muttered happily, burying her face on his chest, keeping in the tears that threaten to drop.

"I-I thought you were dead." He said, not over the shock that filled him. His own relief and happiness mingled with grief. "When I heard what happened on Othorion, I-I…" he trailed off, not wanting to elaborate on the pain he felt then.

"Loke transported me to Earth, getting me as far away from Othorion as he can." She said in reply.

The Doctor's hold tightened at the mention of her dead husband. He had known him and was the main reason how he met her. They hugged each other with no intention of letting go. The Doctor was content to have her in his arms while Yves was happy to stay close to him. Questions roamed in their thoughts. Yves knew what the Doctor did to Gallifrey since he told her. And Yvaine did not blame him. Not one tiny bit.

All that mattered was that he was there with her. However, they were going to attract unwanted attention if they kept at it. Separating, they looked at each with smiles.

Yves laughed, her brown eyes twinkling with happiness.

"How long have you been on Earth?" the Doctor said as he crouched down examining the cat flap again.

The brunette leaned on the rails behind her, thinking. "I don't know." She said, "Around a hundred and ten now that it's 2001."

The Doctor stopped, looking at her with an incredulous expression which left her feeling confused.

"What?" Yves questioned, trying to figure out what he found so disbelieving.

"How many years, Yvaine?" he asked, hoping that he heard it wrong.

"One hundred and ten years." The brunette repeated, looking at the Doctor as he rubbed his hand on his face.

She didn't understand until it dawned to her.

"How long has it been for you?" she asked him seriously, making him face her.

"Five years."

Yves blinked. "That's a hell of a time difference." She commented before shrugging, "It's a fair cop."

The Doctor was about to protest until it came clear just about what she was thinking and which way it headed.

"Oh yeah, I guess it is." He said, turning back to the cat flap when he immediately stood up and the door opened.

Rose appeared on the doorway, looking at the Doctor in shock. She looked behind him to see Yves, who shrugged, trying to keep her laughter in. So, she decided to watch where this would lead, giving her input only when needed.

"What're you doing here?" the Doctor asked, looking at Rose with confusion.

"I live here." Rose said.

"Well, what do you do that for?"

"Because I do. I'm only at home because someone blew up my job."

Yves sighed and exasperatingly muttered, "That just explains it."

The Doctor didn't hear her, but Rose did. The blonde looked at the brunette, confused. She didn't understand why she was with the man from the shop. They didn't say anything since the Doctor interrupted what the blonde was going to say.

He took out his sonic screwdriver and pressed it, lighting it up and producing a small sound. "Must've gotten the wrong signal. You're not plastic, are you?" –before Rose could say anything, the Doctor rapped his knuckles on Rose's forehead—"No, bonehead. Bye, then."

He moved to leave, grabbing Yves's hand. However, Rose grabbed his arm, preventing him from walking away.

"You. Inside. Right now." Rose said firmly, noticing the Doctor clutching Yves's hand. "And take your bloody hand off my best mate."

The Doctor, since amused by her, obeyed as he followed after Rose and Yves inside. Yves had to fight off a smile at Rose's orders. It also warmed her heart to hear that she was Rose's best friend. Rose went straight to the kitchen as Yves entered the sitting room where she casually lounged on the sofa, picking up a magazine. The Doctor entered soon after looking around the sitting room. Rose asked if the Doctor wanted coffee, but asked for milk instead.

"We should go to the Police, seriously, both of us." Rose said, making the coffee.

He rudely grabbed the magazine Yves was reading, flipping through it. Yves looked at him bemusedly.

"That won't last." He commented at a random photograph of a random page, making Yves raise a brow. "He's gay and she's alien."

Yves smiled and grabbed the magazine from his clutches, setting it down the coffee table. She watched as the Doctor flop down next to her on the sofa. Rose kept talking, not noticing that the Doctor wasn't paying attention. Instead, he focused on the brunette.

"So, this is what your life now?" He clarified, gesturing towards the flat, "Reading magazines on the sofa as you watch the telly."

"Sort of." Yves simply said. "What's wrong with that?"

"It's too domestic."

"Oh, you've definitely changed." Yves muttered, hiding a smile.

The Doctor turned, looking at her. "Good or bad."

Yves looked at the Doctor in the eye sternly and said, "Definitely good."

He grinned widely, throwing his arm over her shoulders, and kept her close. Yves let her head rest on the Doctor's shoulders in peace. Rose continued talking, not noticing the two. Suddenly, there was a rustling sound, and he asked Yves, "What's that then? Have they got a cat?"

Yves shook her head. Suddenly, something jumped, headed for the Doctor. Yves jerked away when a plastic arm was choking the Doctor.

"Doctor!" Yves exclaimed, trying to pull the arm off.

That was when Rose decided to enter with the coffee. She sighed. "I told Mickey to throw that out. You're all the same. Give a man a plastic arm. Anyways, I don't even know your name. Doctor, what was it?"

Yves looked at her in disbelief, still trying to pull the arm off. "Rose, help me! He's choking."

She dismissed the notion, thinking it was a joke, and said, "No, he isn't."

"You humans!" Yves muttered, exasperated, finally successful in pulling it off.

However, the moment it was off the arm turned towards her. The hand blocked her mouth and nose, choking her. Yves heard Rose shout her name and saw the Doctor try to pull it from her face. She helped him, trying to pull it away. The Doctor had pulled it so hard that both she and he had crashed onto the glass table, making it shatter into pieces. They kept pulling until Yves got pushed back onto the sofa. Thank God when the Doctor finally pulled out his sonic screwdriver and got the arm off her face. Yves gasped, breathing in deeply. Rose was immediately right beside her, hugging her tightly.

"Are you okay?" Rose asked, and Yves nodded.

"It's all right, I stopped it," he said, reassuring them. "There you go, you see? Armless." He joked and threw the arm to Yves.

The brunette caught the arm and glared at the Doctor, but did not say anything. She wasn't really mad at the Doctor. Having trouble around the corner was expected when the Doctor was around. So, she simply sighed in resignation. Rose had different ideas though. Leaving Yves's side, she hit the Doctor on the arm as hard as she could. He yelled, rubbing his arm while Rose thought it totally justified.

Not saying anything, he suddenly got up and left. Rose followed and Yves briskly followed, watching from a far as the Doctor swanned off. Rose was protesting, telling him to explain and let her in on the situation. And the Doctor answered honestly, vaguely telling the answers to her questions. When he was done, he turned and walked away, leaving Rose, just standing there, very confused. That's when Yves decided to step forward, standing beside Rose.

"You're not going to do what he says, are you?" she said, crossing her arms, looking forward.

"No, I'm not." Rose said. She paused, mulling something over. "You know him, don't you?"

Yves paused hesitantly before she whispered, "Yes, a long time ago."

Rose nodded and asked, "Could you tell me about him?"

Yves sighed, knowing that she was going to ask that, and said, "Research about him first, and then tell me about what you found. Then, tell me if you still want to know." With that, she walked away, leaving Rose staring after her, hearing the noise she had missed all these years.

* * *

After the reunion with the Doctor, Yves received a call from the hospital, telling her that the Lane family wanted to speak with her. Apparently, some nurse told about her being the last to see him. And now, she stood on the porch of a nice, large house; dressed most modest clothing she had. Tentatively, she pressed the doorbell and waited. There were footsteps approaching. Yves was nervous, that much she can say, but she hid in a professional stance.

The door opened and a short blonde girl stood in front of her. She had a bob-cut, straight hair and emerald eyes; tanned skin and petite. The woman scrutinized Yves, almost making her squirm under her gaze.

"Ms. Sebastian?" She said, incredulously, eying her up and down.

Yves answered with a yes, making the girl scoff.

"Blimey, you're tall." She grumbled. "They never said you were tall."

The brunette didn't know how to react, only smiling faintly in amusement. The blonde girl held her head high, looking into her eyes, trying to intimidating. It was more amusing than anywhere near intimidating.

"Anyways, come in, Ms. Sebastian. I'm Calista Lane. Call me Calista. No Cali or Lizzie or any nickname. It's just Calista, alright."

"Yes, Calista." Yves said with a smirk, entering the house.

"And swipe that smirk off your face." Calista grumbled, closing the door behind them. She turned around glaring at Yves, sizing her up. "I'll get one thing straight. You may be tall and I may be short, but you make any move to mock my height I will kick onto next Tuesday."

Yves looked at her amused, but agreed nonetheless.

And that was just the beginning.

It took a while, but Yves was able to explain to them why she was there and how she knew Nicholas. It was hard enough with Calista, Nicholas's niece, scoffing at every part of my story. Calista was convinced Yves was a liar. And it took all of Yves' patience not to rip her vocal cords out. Eventually, even, Jeremy, Nicholas' eldest son, was tired of his daughters' accusations and sent her to her room. She told them that her deceased grandmother used to be Nicholas' lover. One that Nicholas's living wife and sons knew about. Yves told them that she made a promise to her grandmother to be by his side at the hour of his death. She told them that he died peacefully, believing to have fulfilled something he wished to have done many years ago.

"And what was that?" Argos, Nicholas's youngest son, asked.

Yves smiled faintly and said softly, "To see the face of a love long past."

Argos had a look of understanding on his face while the others were confused. Seeing the looks on their faces, Yves explained,

"I was told that I was a splitting image of my grandmother. She thought it best that, if she ever died, I would take her place to see him." Yves said, "And I did. I was there to fulfill my promise."

Shortly afterwards, it was time to go. Yves shook hands with each one, giving her condolences. And she left, but not without the youngest Lane son accompanying her.

"Did you know?" Yves asked Argos as they walked further away from the house.

Argos continued to walk, looking straight ahead. "I don't know what you mean."

"Did you know about Nicholas and I?" she asked, looking straight at him.

Argos sighed and nodded. "He told me about you when he found out he was dying." He said. "He said, _find this woman, tell her that I want to see her on day I die._ "

He stopped and turned to look at her.

"He told me to look at his safe. There was a photo of you in it. I thought it was impossible to find you, but I did, accidentally." He said, "You looked exactly like the woman in the photograph. I know for the fact that I would sound crazy. Hell, I thought my grandfather was crazy. I knew in my bones that it was truth. Same face. Different name. Same person. You are Yvaine Augustine. And you are far older than you look."

Yves stared at him long and hard. His resolve was strong and he was smarter than most people.

At the end, Yves said, "You're right…"

Argos was elated in solving it correctly, but he deflated when Yves said, "You **are** crazy."

She walked away, leaving Argos standing on his own, watching he leave. However, when Argos was turning away, there were footsteps that came forward. He turned around and looked at Yves, who stood in front of him. She leaned and whispered, "Crazy enough to believe what is right."

With that, she turned away, and Argos could only smile as he began his own journey home. Yves walked until she got a text from Rose asking if she wanted to have pizza. Before she could reply, she heard the familiar sound of the TARDIS materializing. Without a second thought, she ran towards the noise, grinning like a madman. She ended up in an alley with the TARDIS just perched on the end.

It was beautiful like last she saw it.

Yves looked at it in child-like wonder, full of curiosity and longing. It's been too long since she stepped into its console. The door opened and the Doctor leant on the doorway, watching as Yves caressed the wooden frame of the TARDIS. She hadn't yet noticed the Doctor watching her still, content in savoring the moment she had with spaceship again.

"You want to go inside?" the Doctor asked, making Yves jump and laugh.

"I never thought I'd see her again." She confessed meekly, turning away from the TARDIS to look at the Doctor.

"If it's any consolation, she missed you too." He said, opening the door wide open. "What do you say?"

Yves's eyes lit up like candles.

"Mind saying hello to an old friend." He said.

Yves entered the TARDIS with a grin, looking at the wide coral arches and the turquoise and gold light that bathed the console. Her fingers trailed the railings, earning a happy hum from the TARDIS herself.

"You've redecorated." Yves muttered—a smile never leaving her face.

The Doctor was running around the TARDIS preparing for lift off, watching the brunette from the corner of her eyes. There was something that tingled inside him when he saw her smile in wonder. Some part of him missed seeing it. The way her eyes lit up in joy and her hands wandered to touch and appraise. Shaking his head, he pulled a lever, initiating the de-materialization for them to take off.

"Why are you bring me along?" she asked, snapping out her reverie.

"You friend, Rose, is in trouble." He said, standing in front of her. "I need to know exactly where she is. The arm wasn't enough to track their source, but while looking for another, I found another plastic alien with your friend."

"She's in Giovanni's, it's a pizza parlor in Central London." She quickly answered, worried for Rose's life.

The Doctor began moving around the console, pulling and pressing random levers and buttons. Yves held on the railings, trying not to be thrown around like a rag doll. She smiled and laughed, earning one from the Doctor as well. It was just like old times. It was nostalgic, but it felt good. Somehow it made Yves younger…when she was still Yvaine.

The TARDIS abruptly stopped, breaking Yves's thoughts. The Doctor rushed to the doors followed by Yves, but he stopped her.

"Where do you think you're going?" the Doctor said.

"Coming with you." She said, pushing past him.

However, the Doctor grabbed her arm, dragging her back.

"No, you are not."

"Why not? Rose invited me to eat with her. I have better excuse to be there than you."

"Because it's dangerous."

"I've been through more dangerous things than alien plastic." She argued.

The Doctor looked like he was going to say something back when something caught his eye. "Hang on, what's that?" he asked, seeing a thin chain around her neck.

Gingerly, he tugged on until a crystal necklace could be seen. His smile now grew wider when he saw the necklace around her neck.

"You kept it." He said, surprised, pointing at the object.

It was the Doctor had given it to her as a farewell present when she decided to leave. And from then since, she never had taken it off since it was the last remnant of what she had lost.

"Of course, I did." Yves said softly.

"Why?"

"It is beyond precious to me—now more than ever." She said, staring up at him. "It is a reminder than somewhere in the universe…" She trailed off, reaching to caress his cheek. The Doctor leaned into her touch. And she smiled faintly and continued, "…the Doctor was saving lives."

Her hand fell away, but the Doctor held it as if she was about to fade away from him. He sighed, letting go of her hand.

"I'm not that Doctor anymore."

"What do you call this?" she said, gesturing towards the door. "I don't think you're here to order pizza."

The Doctor smiled widely again, bursting with newfound energy.

"Nah, you know, the usual," he said, crouching down again, "just saving the world from alien plastic." He sighed. "You're not going to listen to me, are you?"

"You guessed it." She said, going out the door.

He walked after her, smiling.

* * *

A/N: Don't forget to review :)


	3. Yvaine Part 2

_A/N: Okay, I'm back with part two! Hopefully, you guys would enjoy this chapter :)_

Chapter Two

Yvaine Part 2

Yves entered the establishment, finding Rose and Mickey immediately. She breathed in deeply, moving towards them. The Doctor said he had a plan and whatever plan that was is lost to her. She walked towards casually, pretending that there was nothing wrong.

Rose was rambling about where to work now that she was jobless. Yves appeared right around behind Mickey, sitting down on the seat in between them.

"Maybe you could apply as a bartender in a pub I know." She said, smiling at both Rose and an obviously plastic Mickey.

"Yves!" Rose greeted happily.

"Hello, sorry, I'm late." She said, glancing at Mickey on the corner of her eye. "Anyways, do you any experience?"

"In bartending? None that I know of." Rose said grumpily.

"So where did you meet this Doctor?" Mickey asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Weren't we talking about me for a second?" Rose said, looking affronted.

"But I reckon this whole Doctor thing started at the shop, am I right?" Plastic Mickey continued on as though he hadn't heard Rose speak. "Was he something to do with that?"

Yves was trying not to stare or rip out his head. Her face remained in character, looking at Plastic Mickey in confusion, but remained silent.

"No," Rose replied, reaching across the table slightly. "Well, sort of."

"What was he doing there?"

"I'm not going on about it, Mickey. Really, I'm not. 'Cause, I know it know it sounds daft but…I don't think he's safe."

 _'_ _Everyone isn't safe.'_ Yves thought.

Yves watched as Plastic Mickey fluctuated, confusing Rose. Yves looked around the room, finding a fire alarm. Maybe she should push if disaster strikes. Her vision was caught off by a flash of leather. She looked up to see the Doctor with a glass of champagne. He winked at her, and she winked back, putting her head down and into the conversation again.

"Where's the Doctor?" Plastic Mickey said darkly.

"Madam, your champagne."

Rose didn't even turn as she said, "It' not ours, Mickey, what's wrong?"

"I need to find out how much he knows, so where is he?"

"Doesn't anybody want this champagne?"

"Look," Plastic Mickey rolled his eyes towards the man, "We didn't order any—" he cut himself off, then smirked, "Ah, gotcha."

"Don't mind me," the Doctor said, shaking up the champagne, "I'm just toasting the happy couple!" he pulled the tab on the neck of the bottle, "On the house!"

The cork flew off the bottle and it hit Mickey right on the forehead, but it went through as though he was made of rubber. That's what happens when you hit something made of plastic. Plastic Mickey worked his jaw a bit, before spitting out the cork.

"Anyways," Plastic Mickey transformed his hand into a large rubber-like flat mallet and swung down at the table. Yves acted quickly and pulled Rose away with herself landing on the floor. She groaned and saw Plastic Mickey walked over to her, but with one kick on the chest he was pushed back to the Doctor, who wrapped his arms around the plastic's head in a headlock and tugged it off after a few not-so gentle pulls. Yves stood up, walking towards them. And with the Doctor's momentum and stronger kick from Yves, they sent the plastic body not to another table, but to the wall, making a huge dent on it.

"Rose, the fire alarm!" Yves shouted and Rose quickly complied, slamming her hand onto the fire alarm.

"Everyone out!" she cried, "out now!"

The Doctor grabbed Yves hand, pulling her down where they came with Rose on their tail. Behind them, Plastic Mickey was blindly smashing table in an attempt to follow them. They ran through the kitchens and out through the back door. The Doctor threw the head towards Yves, who caught it perfectly. And he slammed the door shut, using the sonic screwdriver from his pocket to lock it.

Rose was pulling at the gate, telling the Doctor to get it opened with the sonic screwdriver. And the Doctor replied with,

"Nah," he strolled towards the TARDIS, "Tell you what, let's you in here!" He opened the door and disappeared inside, door squeaking on its hinges. Yves nodded at Rose and entered the box.

"That went well." Yves commented, giving the Doctor the head back.

"Could have gone better." The Doctor said, before looking at her appraisingly. "Nice kick by the way."

"Learned martial arts and aikido in Japan during the late 1800s," Yves said with a smirk, heading towards the TARDIS. "You aren't a bad waiter yourself."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" the Doctor said incredulously.

Yves shrugged. "Could be. Met a lot of nice waiters," she said, turning around, "some nicer than others." She winked at the Doctor, missing the faint blush on his cheeks.

Rose burst in, closing the door, before bolting out again once she saw the interior. Yves smiled faintly at Rose's reaction. She was once like that—shocked to see the inside of the TARDIS. Of course, she knew it was impossible in the first place, but she was so young just like Rose during those times. She shook head, looking at the Doctor, who was working on the head.

"That thing," Rose said, "It's gonna follow us!"

"The assembled hordes of Genghis Khan couldn't get through that door, and believe me, they've tried. Now, shut up a minute." He walked around the console, pointing his sonic screwdriver at the head. "You see, the arm was too simple, but the head's perfect. I can use it to track back to the original source."

He turned around, looking at Rose. "Right. Where do you want to start?"

"Um…The inside's bigger than the outside?" Rose stuttered.

"Yeah."

"It's alien."

"Yep."

"Are you alien?"

The Doctor paused, then nodded, "Yes. Is that alright?"

"Yeah," Rose replied, her eyes turned to Yves, who was looking at her. "You said you knew him a long time ago…"

Yves nodded, moving towards her.

"Are you alien too?"

"I haven't been for a while." Yves said vaguely.

"But what does that mean?" Rose asked.

"It means…if you lived so long pretending to be human, then you start thinking that you are one too." She said, smiling sadly.

Rose nodded and the Doctor watched the interaction, interrupting them.

"It's called a TARDIS, this thing. T-A-R-D-I-S; stands for Time and Relative Dimension In Space." He said proudly.

Rose suddenly covered her mouth, sobbing. Yves looked at her worried, hesitantly stepping forward. She knew she was grieving for Mickey, who may or may not be alive. That Yves doesn't know. She wanted to comfort her friend, but she wasn't sure Rose wanted her to. Hesitantly, she moved forward, wrapping her arms around her like a mother holding a child.

"Hush, Rose." She whispered, sending the Doctor a knowing look before she could say anything rude.

Yves felt Rose lean into her touch. Rose buried her head on her shoulder, before asking, "Did they kill him? Mickey. D-did they kill Mickey, is he dead?" she raised her head up to look at Yves, pain present in her eyes.

Yves raised her hand and wiped the tears off her cheeks. "I don't know, Rose. I don't." she said, but before Rose could protest, she spoke again, "There is a possibility that he's alive."

"There is?" her eyes lit with hope.

Yves nodded, "But only a slim possibility."

"I don't care if it's slim. Only that there's a chance!" Rose said.

Yves nodded, she gently pulled her arms off around the girl, going towards the Doctor.

"You forgot, didn't you?" she whispered to the Doctor.

"It…may not have crossed my mind." He said.

Yves sighed before her eyes widened. "Doctor, the head's melting!"

"Melt?" the Doctor whipped around and stared for a split second before rushing around the console, shouting "no!" a couple of times. He pulled several levers, and the room around them shuddered and groaned.

"What are you doing?!" Rose snapped.

"Following the signal, it's fading! I've almost got it! No! NO, NO, NO! Almost there! Almost there! Here we go!" He pulled more levers, the groaning stopped and the shaking settled. The Doctor ran out while Rose calling out that it wasn't safe. And Yves casually walked out, feeling the breeze of the cool night air. She didn't pay attention to what Rose and the Doctor, only wandering in her own thoughts.

Her senses tingled and the hair behind her back stood. She closed her eyes as she felt a cool sensation go through her. The wind swooshed around her, almost sounding like whispers. Her gut churned and heart thumped. The whispers became louder, combining into one. There was only one thing she could hear from the chaos.

 ** _He's coming._**

"Yves?" she heard someone say.

Yves opened her eyes and the whispers were gone as well as everything else. She looked into the Doctor's eyes and saw worry. She trapped him into a reverie as they looked. Blue meeting brown.

 _'_ _I'll tell you later.'_ She said in his mind.

"Yves?" she turned to look at Rose, who was also concerned. "Are you alright?"

Yves nodded, looking away from the Doctor. The Doctor snapped out of his reverie, nodding towards Yves. He went back to his joyous self before he frowned in confusion.

"Yves?" the Doctor said, sounded bewildered. "Why did you call her that?"

"That's my name." Yves said as she introduced herself.

"Yves?" the Doctor said again, scrunching his face. "What happened to Yvaine? Yvaine is a fantastic name!"

Yves laughed and said, "Says the man that gave the name _Yves_ in the first place."

"Oi! I was a different man back then." he argued.

"Stop it!" Rose snapped, looking at the Doctor incredulously. "Did you seriously not know, all this time, her name is Yves?"

"Well, I knew her back when she called herself Yvaine." The Doctor defended himself.

"Congratulations! Now you know!" Yves said sarcastically,and then smiled, "Yves Sebastian. At your service!" she bowed.

"So what does it look like?" Rose said, interrupting, "the transmitter, I mean."

"Like a transmitter. Round and massive, smack-bang in the middle of London. A huge circular metal structure. Like a dish, a wheel. Somewhere close to where we're standing."

Rose and Yves exchanged looks before staring up at the London Eye.

"It must be completely invisible. What are you two staring at?"

Rose nodded her head to the wheel. The Doctor around, but the Eye was not noticed.

"What?"

Rose nodded again, but as the Doctor turned around, he had still not seen it.

"What is it, what?"

"God. You can still be daft sometimes." Yves commented, looking pointing at the Eye.

The Doctor looked to where she was point and looked for a longer moment. He grinned and turned to the girls.

"Fantastic!"

Immediately, they ran through the sidelines of the bridge. The wind whipped our hair, but the spark of adrenaline kicking us on. Yves felt something grab her hand and she glanced to see it was the Doctor's. She grabbed ahold of his, smiling happily. This was what she missed. The thrill of it all. The adrenaline pumping through her veins. An adventure of a lifetime. They skipped through stairs and walked through shops and people until they stood in front of the London Eye.

"Think of it," the Doctor said, "Plastic, every artificial thing all over the world, waiting to come alive. The shop window dummies, the phones, the wires, the cables—"

"The breast implants…" Rose continued.

Yves looked at her in amusement.

"Still, we've found the transmitter, the Consciousness must be somewhere underneath."

Rose looked around, heading towards the beach, where a sewer entrance was placed at.

"What about down here?" she called.

The Doctor and Yves rushed to her side.

"Looks good to me!" the Doctor replied, grabbing their hands and dragging them towards it. He opened the hatch, and they climbed down into a chamber filled with heat and red light. The Doctor pushed open a door and led them through it. They arrived at a vast staircase overlooking a vat of orange, viscous, molten plastic.

"Nestene Consciousness," the Doctor spoke softly, "There, inside the vat. A living, plastic creature."

"Well then, tip in your Antiplastic and let's go!" Rose said, but the Doctor had other ideas.

"I'm not here to kill it. I've got to give it a chance!"

He walked down a bit further so that he was overlooking the vat from a lower and nearer place. Yves stood besides him while Rose hanged back.

"We seek audience with the Nestene Consciousness under peaceful contract, according to Convention 15 of the Shadow Proclamation."

The plastic in the vat moved and groaned as though talking. Rose crept slower to the Doctor while Yves reached out to grab his hand. The Doctor squeezed it reassuringly.

"Thank you! If we may have permission to approach?"

The plastic groaned again. Rose caught sight of Mickey and gasped, rushing down the stairs to where he was cowering at the side.

"Mickey!" she cried.

Yves walked down the stairs with the Doctor, hands now in the pockets of her leather jacket. She smiled at their reunion, but frowned at Mickey's frightful tone. He looked like he had a bad time with his first encounter with aliens.

"Oh my God! Yves, Doctor, he's alive!" she said with relief, "Yves, you were right."

"Aren't I always?" Yves said.

"Can we keep the domestics outside, thank you?" the Doctor snarked, continuing his descent towards the plastic. Yves gave a smile at Rose and Mickey before, following the Doctor. The Nestene gurgled as he approached, and the Doctor and Yves looked down into the vat. "Am I addressing the Consciousness?" The reply was a louder gurgle. "Thank you. If you I may observe, you infiltrated this civilization by means of warped, shunt technology. So, might I suggest, with greatest respect, that you shunt off?" He grinned while Yves smothered her laughter.

The Consciousness took form of an angry face and made a noise of protest.

"Oh, now, don't give me that! It's an invasion, plain and simple! Don't talk about constitutional rights!"

"Doctor! Can we not piss off the giant vat of plastic?" she whispered to him, but he waved her off.

"I AM TALKING! These humans, these stupid little people have only just learned how to walk, and they're capable of so much more. I'm asking you, on their behalf, please, just go!"

"DOCTOR!" Rose's warning came too late when three mannequins came behind Yves and the Doctor. One grabbed ahold of Yves's arms, and she tried to struggle off but was too tight. And another reached into the Doctor's jacket and pulled out the Antiplastic. The Consciousness was outraged, roaring in his vat.

"That was just insurance! I wasn't gonna use it!" The Doctor defended, but the Consciousness was having none of that.

It roared some more, but the Doctor shook his head, trying to explain to him. "We weren't attacking you! We're here to help. We are not your enemy. I swear we're not." However, there was another shriek.

"What do you mean?!"

A wall shifted to show the TARDIS behind it, and the Doctor started shouting. And Yves struggled some more yet in vain. She gasped in pain when the hold tightened.

"Yves, are you alright?" the Doctor called out to her, but she could only grunt out a sound of pain as their grips tightened on her arms and then around her neck. She couldn't pay attention to what the Doctor was saying when the air chilled around her. And her heart raced in thundering beats. It was happening again. The whispers of the wind surrounding her. Then, she was filled with new energy, some she hadn't felt in sometime. It was small—miniscule but it was enough. A glow radiated from her arms and in an instant the plastic melted into a puddle. Rose was swinging on a chain and Yves had to duck before Rose kicked the mannequin with the Antiplastic, letting fall into the vat. Yves got up and liquefied the mannequin around the Doctor, setting him free. The glow faded and tiredness came upon her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking at Yves with great concern, grabbing the side of her face.

Yves nodded and gestured to Rose, who was swinging back to them. The Doctor let go of her and caught Rose.

"Now, we're in trouble!" The Doctor laughed, pulling the girls to the TARDIS, where Mickey latched back onto Rose. Once, it was open, they all poured inside. At last, the crisis was over.

The TARDIS landed and Yves remained inside with the Doctor as the others went out. The Doctor came to stand with her.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I will be, yeah."

"So, you're a liquefying glow stick now." He joked, earning a playful slap on the shoulder.

"Shut up." She said; a faint smile on her face.

"You can't blame me. It's like if the elves of Lord of the Rings had a planet to themselves."

"You're right. We glow. We're eternal. We're beautiful." She joked, but grimaced when she realized, "God, we sound like it's the planet of _Next Top Model_."

The Doctor laughed. " _Galadhrim's Next Top Model._ It has a nice ring to it." He said, earning a laugh from Yves.

They stepped out of the TARDIS, smiling. Well, Yves stepped out, but the Doctor remained at the doorway.

"Nestene Consciousness," He snapped his fingers, "easy."

"You were useless in there. At least, Yves got the glowing trick. But you'd both be dead if it wasn't for me!"

"Yes, we would," the Doctor sincerely agreed, "Thank you."

Yves smiled. She held her hand on her chest before giving a wave towards Rose.

"Why'd you do that?" Rose said curiously. "The arm thing."

Yves smiled again. "It's a signal of gratitude from my people."

Rose nodded, smiling as she imitated the thing. It was a bit sloppy, but the effort was appreciated.

"Right then! I'll be off. Unless…I don't know, you could come with me," he looked between Rose and Yves. "This box isn't just a London-Op, you know, it goes anywhere in the universe. Free of charge!"

"Don't. He's an alien. He's a thing." Mickey said, looking at Yves. "So is she!"

Yves bowed her head in understanding, but did not feel any anger towards him. He had a bad first time with aliens. He doesn't have a very high opinion about aliens even if one, sort of, saved him.

"He's NOT invited." The Doctor said, "What do you think? You could stay here and fill your life with food and work and sleep or you could go, well, anywhere."

"Is it always this dangerous?" Rose asked.

"Yeah."

At the Doctor's answer, Mickey latched back onto Rose.

"Yeah, I can't, um…I've got to go and find my mum, and someone has to look after this stupid lump…so…"

"I'll look after him." Yves said, walking towards Mickey, looking intently at Rose.

Rose looked confused and shocked, "I-I can't—"

Yves held up her hand. "If there's one thing the Doctor forgot to mention, it is that the TARDIS can travel in time."

Rose smiled happily at the thought of it.

"So, you're not coming?" the Doctor asked, clearly disappointed.

Yves looked at the Doctor and gave him a sad smile. "Don't worry, Doctor." Yves said. "I'll be back. One day, I will travel through the universe with you like old times. However, that day is not today. Just ask me another time. I might just say yes."

The Doctor nodded in understanding. And Rose hugged Yves and kissed Mickey goodbye, entering the TARDIS. Yves sighed as she watched the blue box fade away from her. She didn't know how long till she'll ever see it again, but she rather not dwell on it.

"Come on!" she said to Mickey, holding out a hand, but the boy just shook his head, afraid. "You're like him! You're an alien!"

"Yes, I'm one." She said patiently. "But I'm not like the Doctor. I'm not like the plastic that kidnapped you…I'm me. Just same girl you met when Rose introduced us." She bit her lip. "If it helps, I'll tell you my story. My real story."

After that, Mickey trusted her enough to walk him home, but he held onto her hand like a leech. Not like it bothered her. It reminded her of how Astra would cling unto her when she's scared. Without her even knowing, she told Mickey of her daughter and her husband. And it calmed Mickey down. She told him of how she met Loke, how their wedding went, how Astra was born. It felt good to release all the tension on her shoulders. By the time, she reached Mickey's flat, she had already told him about the destruction of her planet.

There were tears in Mickey's eyes that he refused to shed.

"You're not bad…for an alien." He said, smiling faintly.

"You're not bad too…for a human." She said, leaving him on his own.

And on her way back to Powell Estate, she looked up above the stars and shed a tear.


	4. Being Human

A/N: _I'm back with a new chapter! I'd like to thank those who have favorited, reviewed, followed and read this story. I hope I continue to go into the right direction :) Now, enjoy the chapter! And R &R is very much appreciated._

* * *

Chapter Three

Being Human

It's been nearly a year since Rose left with the Doctor.

Over the course of that time, Yves experienced many things that left her wondering if it was what human normalcy was. Ever since Jackie noticed Rose's disappearance, which was a day after her departure, it had been chaos.

It was tiring to say that Yves tried to calm the older Tyler down. She tried covering Rose's backside with excuses until the TARDIS conveniently appear. Although, it came apparent that they would not be arriving in Powell Estate in a long time.

Three days later Jackie noticed Rose's absence, Jackie phoned the police. It wasn't long after that that Jackie accused Mickey of murdering Rose. It led to said man being taken in three times, and probably more if Yves had not intervened. Because of her, more or less, governmental status, the police backed off. That had shot her into a bad spot with Jackie for a while. Then, the rumors started happening, it was never about Yves, but always about Mickey. The rumors were variety of nonsense.

One of the good parts of the year was that Mickey and Yves grew closer as friends. Yves finally had someone she could open up to and Mickey wasn't at all afraid of her anymore. He was amazed by her adventures with the Doctor and her personal experiences on the one hundred and ten years of being human since the destruction of her home planet. It apparently surprised him to hear that she had participated in WWII.

Also within the year, Yves had attended Nicholas's funeral…which was a disastrous event. Yves attended, and Calista was glaring at her like Yves was a bug on a windshield. And much to Calista's annoyance, Yves ignored her. And to irritate Calista furthermore, she spoke at his eulogy. It result to the girl to run at her like crazy, almost tackling her if it wasn't for her father and Argos. While the funeral was depressing, it was good to see Argos again that she made an acquaintance out of him. After the funeral, the full weight of grief was heavily laden on her. Mickey was kind enough to be her shoulder to cry on, treating her with a few drinks at the pub. During that time in the pub, drowning in alcohol that would never get her drunk, a part of her wondered if she should have accepted the Doctor's offer. She would have been able to escape from her troubles. However, she knew she could not escape for long.

Yves had to face the truth—better if now than never.

There was also the matter of her new found abilities. Ever since her adventure with the Doctor, the whispers were occurring daily. The dizziness and headaches would come her way which became a side effect of the euphoria of power rippling through her veins. Yves didn't understand it. It was like she was changing. Her glow, which was once silver, became gold. And her eyes were more prominent brown than red. She felt lighter than she used to be, stronger than she felt before.

The drastic change came one night, while she was heading home from a meet-up with a friend, a group of men tried to mug her. Key word was tried. Yves, being Yves, had pretended to be helpless before kicking their asses. Before she knew it, a bullet ricocheted in the air. And she could only put her hand up in defense. Of course, she could have moved away, but instincts told her to block it. And so she did, and the bullet never hit its mark. Yves had looked to see the bullet a mere inches away from her hand, stopped midair surrounded by a golden haze. Shocked by it, Yves dropped her hand and the bullet fell on the floor, the golden glow gone.

That was when the voices stopped, leaving her afraid of her new power.

Of course, a couple weeks later, she decided to actually hone her powers. If she didn't want to hurt anyone, then she must learn to control it. Hence, her short trip to Nepal to train with the monks there. The monks knew of her existence and her immortality since she stayed and trained with them more than once. For months, Yves had been rehabilitating herself to feel like herself again.

When her training was complete, Yves returned at once to London. There she was greeted by a frantic Jackie and an enthusiastic Mickey. And that's when Yves thought life being human wasn't so bad.

* * *

Three days later…

Yves walked through the ballroom, admiring the paintings and sculpture in front of her. She was at art exhibition hosted by, who the media promptly named, the Collector. He/she was mysterious fellow that had yet come to light. And Yves didn't bother finding out like some of the guest do. She was here for the artwork of his collections, not the Collector himself. And she was the only one who truly respected it by far. Most of the men and women she encountered either wanted to gossip or do business in a place where art was supposed to be appreciated. Not that Yves was doing better. She was, in fact, closed to the entire thing, remaining a cold façade of indifference.

The exhibit, itself, was a wonder—a capricious wonder. There was Japanese, Balinese, Siamese, Chinese, and something that looked like an Asian replica of the Thinker. While Yves appreciated the Collector showing their collections over the years, what she did not accept was the collection to be flaunted to the masses like a prized stallion in a derby.

One thing for sure was that if she ever met the Collector, she'd probably not go well with them.

She stopped in a particular portrait, her eyes widening. It was a portrait of Lady Messalina. Yves looked at it in shock. The woman's eyes were almost scarlet hue mixed with brown. Her features were softer. She was younger. However, there was no doubt in her heart that this was her. It was Yves, herself. In the portrait, she wore a silver gown that looked like liquid flowing against her body. Her brown hair fell like gentle waves upon the seashore. Her skin pale shimmered in light. It was the time before she went to Earth. It was impossible.

"I see you've taken a liking to Lady Messalina."

Yves turned around to see a young man about twenty-seven looking at her intently. He was tall around 6'0". He was lean but not lanky. In a sleek black suit, he wore a red vest that popped out in his ensemble. He was a handsome man, but in a beautiful way. His face was not marred by any scars or facial hair. His skin looked sleek with a healthy glow. His black hair was long and soft, wanting to be touched. And his eyes were dark brown eyes that looked almost black. He had high cheekbones and a sharp jaw.

"It is a beautiful piece." She remarked, ignoring the slight unnerved feeling she got in his presence.

The man continued to stare, but he cleared his throat and said, "Lady Messalina or also known as The Lady of Light was discovered in 1880. It was found in the attic of an old house in Italy. Unlike any painting I had ever seen, she had lasted through time as if it were merely a ripple than a crashing wave. For hundreds of years, it sat in a chest in a forgotten home. If I had not bought the home, I feared it made have had to endure longer years."

"You are the collector?" Yves asked, curious.

The man shook his head, smiling at her.

"If I were, I would have assembled a far more fitting event." He said. "Paintings like these should never be flaunted as a tool to show your elegance and power. A photograph is…questionable."

"Why do you say so?"

The man chuckled and said, "Photographs are so ironically impermanent. They capture one moment in time to perfection. However, a painting can capture eternity."

Yves stared at the man intently. "Who are you?"

The man smiled at her as if amused. "Lucius Calix, my lady. I donated many paintings to the Collector's collection." He gave a long bow, showing his respect. He straightened up, smirking. "May inquire the name of the exquisite woman before me?"

"Yves Sebastian."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman," He flirted, trying charm his way in.

Yves laughed in amusement and said, "And this is your reason to approach me? It was not for the Lady Cordova. Your goal was to charm me into your bed, so you can have your way with me. I must say you aren't doing a very good job. Mr. Calix."

Lucius chuckled, shaking his head. "You are smarter than you look." He said, taking a step closer. "As much as you've gotten the general idea right, it was not the initial reason why I came." He said, stepping closer to him.

"What is it?"

"I couldn't help but notice your skepticism." He said.

"Am I skeptical?" Yves asked incredulously.

"About the room, I would say yes. It's rather aggressive, isn't it? I'm sure you've noticed the geographically capricious items in the room. If I had known what he had done, I certainly wouldn't have donated my shares to him."

"So, the Collector invited you to witness his, as you say, elegance and power?"

Lucius chuckled. "No matter what he does, I would remain greater than he."

"Yes, not very arrogant at all." She said sarcastically.

Lucius laughed, amusement glittering in his eyes, and Yves smiled faintly.

"It's more of a random invitation than anything." Lucius said.

"Do you get many of those?"

"Yes."

Yves raised a brow. "You could say no."

"I never say no."

They stared at each other, wondering and curious. There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that she could not discern as well as the attraction she felt towards the man. Yet she could not think of that. What she thought of was how the man, if he was indeed, thought she was skeptical.

"I wasn't skeptical about the room." She said, breaking the silence, but still staring curiously.

"What then? Shall I guess?" he asked, a smirk on his face,

Yves chuckled. "Try your best, Mr. Calix."

He walked forward and began, "You do not belong here. Even less than I…"

His eyes wandered over face, memorizing every detail.

"You are not frivolous. Your eye is careful and appraising. This is not a careful room, although there is much to appraise,"—his voice whispered huskily, his eyes wandering into hers—"but that can only divert you for so long. You do not like it here. You are closed to it. Yet…you're the only woman here not wearing gloves."

His warm hands touched hers. Her first instinct was pull her hand away but he held on to it, stroking her knuckles. The metal of a ring on his ring was cool, a contrast to the warmth he gave.

"Why is that? Invitation demands to wear a pair, so hands could not soil the grandeur of the art. However, you are different. A single touch of your fingers wouldn't ruin the items, but would enhance them. Although your hands want to touch, your head wants to appraise. Your heart is torn between the two."

His face got nearer, their noses almost touching.

"You were skeptical because you thought…This was going to be a wasted evening, but now you're not so sure."

* * *

Yves stretched her legs, feeling the silky warm sheets slide under her feet. She opened her eyes to see a canopy made of draped red sheets. Turning her head, she was met with nothing. There was hint of disappointment, she felt. Yves didn't even know why she did. It had been a week since they last met and there was no form of contact as of late. What did she expect? He was a man—just another human that came her way. Then, she remembered what she dreamt of. It wasn't the first time they met. It was another day after that when Lucius had been allowed to view all his donations to a friend.

He picked Yves.

 _Yves and Lucius entered a private room, admiring each painting that hung on the walls like chandeliers._

 _"Here are all the paintings I donated to the Collector." Lucius proudly presented; content in watching Yves beam at each painting._

 _They were all people, painted to be remembered in the future. After a moment of moving around the exhibition, she stopped and looked at Lucius._

 _"I've noticed something…" she announced, "I have seen all your donations. And I noticed they were all portraits. You have no landscapes or still lives."_

 _Lucius smiled at her kindly and said, "Are not people the most mysterious things?"_

 _Yves tried to hide a smile, but Lucius caught nonetheless and smirked. They moved on to another exhibition into one that was farther down the hall. In a dim room, they were faced with the biggest painting she had ever seen. It filled the whole wall with paintings of angels fighting demons, casting them back to the black chasm from whence they came._

 _"Do you believe in heaven, Miss Sebastian?" he asked, staring at the painting with an unreadable expression._

 _Glancing at him, she said truthfully, "I believe in this world and those creatures that fill it. That's always been enough for me."_

 _"What of true evil? What do you think of it?"_

 _"Why all the sudden questions?"_

 _"Is it a crime to ask?" he retorted, glancing at her face. "I wish to know your thoughts on the subject."_

 _Yves thought long and hard about what she was going to say. She had seen the darkness creep through the corner of her eye, and madness exist in the crevices of the universe where sanity could not hold. She had seen many evil and vile things, but never did she stop to think what true evil was._

 _"True evil is two things…" she began, "It is beautiful and seductive. When the Devil knocks at your door, he is not a grotesque being. He will be, first and foremost, an angel. In an alluring voice, he would whisper your heart's desire. How can we be so tempted by something we all perceive as ugly? It is a deception at its finest."_

 _"An astute opinion." He praised, smirking._

 _"Who are you, Mr. Calix?" she asked. "Possibly a devil that has come to tempt me with your charms?"_

 _"No." he shook his head, looking at her before smirking, "I am the Devil."_

Both meetings were something truly unforgettable. It wasn't everyday she met someone as intriguing as Lucius Calix. However, there was something in his tone that struck her when he joked on being the Devil. In those uttered words, he had, of course, a playful look about him, but there was something odd. His eyes seemed to darken and his tone which was usually flowing and melodious reached a hard and cold tone. It was barely noticeable.

Lucius was, indeed, a curious man.

There was a knock on her door. And begrudgingly, Yves got up from bed, putting on blue cut off sweater and some converse sneakers. She walked towards the door and moved to open it. She opened to find a young man holding a rather big box.

"D-Delivery for Miss Yves Sebastian?" he stuttered out, unable to keep his eyes off her. "I'm Mr. Calix's footman."

Yves smiled kindly at him.

"Yes, that would be me."

The ma shakily gave the box to Yves and she took graciously. The form she needed to sign was accomplished without a hitch. And Yves closed the door with her foot and placed the box on the coffee table. Opening the box, she was greeted with the sight of an enormous bouquet of flowers. There were roses, lilies, tulips, and violets. Yves smiled and wondered who sent them. Then, she caught sight of a note in the bouquet. She picked it up and read it, the cursive writing was elegant and precise.

To my Lady of Light,

Meet me at the Kew Gardens, Tomorrow morning at 10 AM. I have something to show you. I hope you kept my number.

From,

L

Smiling, Yves closed the note. She placed the note beside the bouquet. There was a knock on the door again. And Yves opened it to find Jackie on the doorway.

"Hey, Yves! I just popped in to ask if you have any sugar, I've run out." Jackie said, entering the flat.

Yves smiled, closing the door behind her. After a few months, Jackie forgave Yves (for whatever reason, Yves have yet to understand). Yves was just relieved that her neighbor wasn't angry at her. There was a gasp and Jackie was looking at the huge bouquet of flowers she still had on her coffee table.

"Who sent you that?" she asked.

"An acquaintance I met at the exhibition I told you about." She said, picking up the bouquet and putting in the kitchen.

Jackie followed with her arms crossed, leaning on the doorway of the kitchen. After putting the bouquet on the counter, Yves tried to find her sugar.

"You said the exhibition was boring." Jackie remarked.

Yves nodded in agreement. "It was."

"So, this acquaintance was boring as well?"

"Oh, far from it." Yves muttered, but Jackie heard it.

She let out a squeal and Yves turned around to see her, reading the note on the bouquet. Yves snatched it from her hands and thrust the jar of sugar in her hands.

"You're going on a date!" Jackie said, sounding almost like a teenage girl.

Yves neither confirmed nor denied that.

"Oh, yes it is." Jackie said resolutely, and then putting the jar aside and grabbing Yves's hand. "We are going to get you a nice dress for tomorrow."

"Jackie…" Yves began to protest, but Jackie was having none of it.

So that's why Yves was sitting on the couch while Jackie went through her clothes for her "date". Her dresses were strewn around the sitting room and the closet with Jackie making a mess. Yves sighed. She'd have to clean them up again, but she could hardly blame the woman. Since Rose's disappearance, Jackie had been different…it's something Yves couldn't explain exactly. It was like she was still Jackie, but something inside her broke. She was on the mend, though. Yves had been filling in that hole temporarily, allowing Jackie to fuss over her like she was her own daughter.

"Found it!" she exclaimed, showing her a dress she knew all too well.

Yves shook her head out of a trance and smiled, looking at the dress in fondness

."Yes, this will do well."

"Hope you knock him right off his feet."

"I'm sure it would."

The next day came and Yves found herself standing in front of her mirror and examining what she looked like. Her hair was braided and twirled into a neat bun held up with a golden hairpin. She wore no other jewelry aside from the necklace the Doctor gave her. Yves stood in front of the mirror in a white, sleek white dress with a thin black belt wrapped around her waist. She wore a black leather jacket that was unzipped and a pair of black, lace-up, ankle boots.

"It's just a social interaction, not the end of the world." She said to herself, tugging in her rustic black, cut-off gloves.

Nodding to herself, she exited her flat and headed down. There walked down the stairs, texting Lucius.

Yves: On my way.

Almost immediately, a response was sent and Yves read it.

Lucius: I'll be waiting at the entrance of Kew Gardens for your arrival.

Before she could close her phone or reply, she collided with someone. Arms held her arms as she struggled to find her balance.

"Thanks." She muttered, holding on the stranger's arms.

"You're welcome."

Yves's head snapped up at the familiar voice. She looked at him, her mouth agape.

"Doctor?"


End file.
